Descendants of the Sun 태양의 후예: Enigmatic Magnetic
by purebristles
Summary: A thought exercise putting to words what Yoo Sijin and Kang Moyeon were thinking of during the 16 episodes. This will not depart from canon.
1. Flinty Glances and Undeniable Sparks

_Captain Yoo Sijin/"Big Boss"_

Goodness, it wasn't as if he didn't already have things to do. Returning from the DMZ with that annual kerfuffle under his belt had meant endless meetings and explanations, and because it was black ops meant no reports could be written - which he was mighty glad of - but also meant that everything had to be verbally rehashed again and again through meetings. Sijin was heartily tired of it, and was glad to get a couple of days' rest from the bureaucracy. Ironic how a couple of those despised written reports might have actually saved him some time this time around. Oh well.

Only to have this petty thief come into the picture, and whom his brother-in-arms decide that he would pick up and adopt the stray.

Sijin sighed as he lay in his tent turning over the last few days in his head. He understood where Daeyoung was coming from, he really did. It's just that they were both brothers for a reason: they held similar belief systems and responsibility for one's actions being somewhere at the top of the list. And Sijin knew that once he had made a commitment - even in his head to himself - he would honour it. And thus so would Daeyoung.

"I wonder how much easier life would be if we weren't so responsible," he asked himself as he tossed again to find comfortable position in bed.

At least the whole escapade hadn't gone completely to waste. There was that lovely, spunky doctor they met. Who had mother-henned her patient, and had nearly called the cops on him for suspected gang activity - he had to smile at that memory - and then who had blushed so prettily as she found out he was telling the truth, and then sewed him up again after she found out he busted his stitches in that gang fight with Daeyoung's new stray's gang.

He had felt the spark of attraction when they first met - and had turned on the charm ('thanks mom for teaching me' he thought in a silent lightning prayer to her) - and of course secured a first date with her. He figured he would count it as a first date, even if she had stood him up.

She probably felt obliged to give him the second date since she left him hanging the last time around, and he could have worked with that advantage, except but he managed to screw up the second all on his own, no thanks to this damnable Afghan mission. Which brought him back to the present situation he was in now, mission completed and sleeping outdoors in a sleeping roll waiting for the next morning's pickup.

He figured he would have another chance with her once the week was out. After all, she DID agree to a movie with him, away from the hospital.

He gave up trying to sleep and opened his eyes, and saw a meteor shower pass by. 'Shooting stars,' he murmured. Ever since he was old enough, dad had brought him on camping and fishing trips where they would camp - the car about 20m away - and fish - without catching anything - just spending time together. There on those trips he had learnt about the Bortul Scale for measuring darkness from dad.

"Light pollution is less of a problem in rural areas or in the wilderness, so it is best to stargaze when on a mission to really rural backward places," dad always told him. "Look up on occasion when on missions, don't be so focused on what you are doing that you forget your place on earth, and why God has put you here. Protect beautiful women, children, and the elderly."

When Sijin was younger, he always secretly felt that dad was over-exaggerating, and being just a tiny bit cheesy. But as he grew older, lived life, loved and lost - he knew his dad's principles were right, and consciously began to adopt and articulate them.

He hoped that would be impressive enough for this doctor, who took her job seriously and protected strays, and who volunteered in Africa. And who smelled nice, really nice.

Sijin closed his eyes again. "I hope she doesn't already have a boyfriend," he thought as he felt sleep claim him. " That would be a sticky problem."


	2. Helicopter Fly-By

_Kang Moyoen_

Life past 30 wasn't boring, thought Moyeon as she tossed about in the on-call room bunk beds. She and Dr Pyo Jisoo had celebrated their 32nd birthdays just a few months prior - they had discovered their birthdates were 3 days apart when being tortured as surgical residents together and that had solidified their sisterhood in Hae Sung Hospital - and the slightly tipsy night had both of them lamenting the post-30 single life for a Korean woman.

"32 means really left on the shelf so I won't be afraid to say what I want anymore," declared Moyeon to Jisoo. "My very existence as a single Korean woman is offensive to so many people who who the f- cares?" She remembered giggling to hiccups as she toasted her sister.

"Oh you want to talk offensive?" retorted Jisoo. "I am a single Korean woman in a wheelchair; I have been left on the shelf so long I decided to grow wheels to move around different shelves," Moyeon remembered both of them looking at each other for a beat after Jisoo said that, and then bursting into loud, raucous laughter at the classy bar they wound up in after their facial spa half-day date.

Moyeon sent up a silent prayer to God again for bringing Jisoo together in this life. Dad had passed away when she was 2, and mom had never remarried, so she never had any siblings to bicker with, or experience family life with. It was just her and mom, against the world.

She had been a good Korean girl, knowing that her mom worked hard as a single - sometimes ostracised - parent to keep them both in shoes. She studied hard, went for cram school and extra classes, and eventually got a partial academic scholarship to study medicine, and had done everything "right". She spent her life ticking all the "life boxes" - studied like a demon, got good grades and a good job, moved out, dated a couple of older guys, gave her mom money every month, spent time with her every other month... but when she chatted with Jisoo she understood why so many American online articles keep writing that "money wasn't everything." Despite her disability, Jisoo kept her personality, her snarky sense of humour, and her fiercely loyal friendship was a cornerstone in Moyeon's life.

Early in their friendship, Moyeon had secretly done some research to examine if there were things - operations - which could be done to help Jisoo walk again. It had led her to the Walter Reed National Military Medical Centre in Maryland, USA, which dealt with paralysed and paraplegic research and rehabilitation, all cutting-edge, and well-funded by the US military. She had even gone as far as emailing one of the doctors there to ask about what could possibly be done for Sijoo.

Unfortunately she had been careless and had left a Walter Reed printout in the print tray, and Sijoo had found it. The next day, when they met during their common lunch time, Sijoo was waiting for her, with the printout beside their tuna sandwiches.

"There is nothing to be done," was the first thing out of Sijoo's mouth as Moyeon sat, feeling mortified at being found out. "I have checked the world over, and my nerves have been completely severed; the neural pathways are broken and no amount of research can help me."

"I will not be your charity case; are you even my friend?" Sijoo had asked her point-blank. Moyeon had panicked and prevaricated, saying she was thinking about specialising in emergency trauma surgery and rehabilitation, and told a half- truth that Sijoo's condition was a factor as she explored options. Sijoo had remained unconvinced, and to strengthen her case to prove her friendship with Sijoo, Moyeon had volunteered to go to Africa on a month-long humanitarian aid trip organised by the hospital, to show that she was serious about exploring emergency trauma as a possible specialisation.

The trip profoundly changed her. She had gone to Africa on a bid to save face and her friendship with Jisoo, but came back with a stronger technical command of her rusty hold on the English language - since it seemed to be one of two of the common languages among aid workers in Africa, and she really wasn't about to start learn French in her 30s - and a better appreciation for doctors who worked in less than ideal field conditions.

She found herself appreciating everything she had in the hospital more, and resolved to work even harder to get that professorship, because she never wanted to be one of those altruistic doctors who worked for the cause and no pay. She knew that she was blessed, after seeing the wounds of rough gang rapes and treating spurting gunshot wounds, and horrified at the conditions that existed elsewhere in the world, made her work all the more harder for a good position in Hae Sung.

Which is why she felt rather strongly about the boy who was obviously beaten up and ended in the emergency room.

She tossed again on the bunk bed. What mortification she felt to have doubted the man - soldier Yoo Sijin - she mentally corrected herself. She wasn't immune to his flirting, but when he had told her he was a soldier and the phone was his, his presumptuous demeanour reminded her of the swagger some African gang members affected as they intimidated others with their bravado. The security tape had wound up showing that soldier Yoo Sijin was telling the truth, and she wound up being grudgingly - then increasingly - then really, really impressed by his fighting skills.

And let's admit it Moyoen, just a little bit turned on, she thought to herself. Which is why when she had an opportunity to treat the handsome soldier a little more with stitches, she treated herself to some extra time with him, getting his history and an x-ray, before re-suturing his wound. He had continued to turn on the charm while with her, and she found no reason not to flirt back, a little giddy with excitement.

Which was what made the whole situation now so tragic, she sighed and turned over again. First, she stands him up because the emergency patient's spleen ruptured while he was on the table, making the operation ten times more challenging. And when he seemed to want to meet her anyway, despite the late hour, so she had traded hours with Dr Joon, another workaholic doctor who never seemed to go home, and primped herself ready to go... only for him to turn around and stand her up as he got onto a helicopter.

Moyeon made a disgruntled sound in her throat as she remembered that unsatisfying ending to the evening. Not for the first time, she wondered if he was playing her, and paying her back for standing him up earlier in the evening.

But it wasn't like she could leave a patient on the table and come back later to operate - the patient's life was at stake and anyone who had half a brain would understand why she wasn't available. If he was the son from a major chaebol conglomerate family looking to get back at her for standing him up, he certainly spent a lot of money getting the clearly military helicopter as a getaway prop.

Moyeon couldn't keep her eyes open anymore, and dropped off to sleep replaying the toe-curling flirt she had in the suture room with soldier Yoo Sijin. "Doctors don't have boyfriends because they don't have time. Soldiers don't have girlfriends because they are never home."

"Who will blink first?" she wonders as she sank into a restful nap.


End file.
